Backwards
by Sauri
Summary: [Gruvia][One-shot] For all love stories can be told in the wrong direction.


**N/A: **I have this policy of not writing about pairngs' kids, or using way too many headcanons in a single fic, or like another hundred tiny things… buuut, fuck it. It was fun. For those who are still waiting for the last chapter of _Fading Colors _(if any),I'm so sorry. I'm kinda short with how to make it resolve itself. I had the ending and all that, but I don't know how to arrive there, so bear me.

I hope you all enjoy this one-shot, and tell me the mistakes, 'cuz I know there are!

**Disclaimer**: Fairy Tail and its characters are not mine. All belongs to Mashima.

**Warnings: **Extreme fluff. And grumpy!granpa!gray (triple G, haha) is totally canon for me. And some wacky parts.

* * *

**Backwards**

_._

When she woke up, she knew it was his hands on hers what aroused her from the deep and dreamless sleep. They were wrinkled and scarred by the years gone by, but still as strong and firm as she remembered them being once upon a time. It was one of those unchangeable facts that had stayed with them, him being so like his element –cold and unwavering while breakable at the same time.

Juvia sighed, nostalgia lacing her breath. She managed to creep a smile upon her lips hesitantly, vision blurred with the figure she assumed to be her husband, and the hold on her hands tightened. Returning the gesture with lesser strength, her mouth quivered upwards more naturally.

"Hey," Gray said with raspy voice, his body bending closer to her. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she answered. It was truth as far as she was concerned, even with the constant lull of pain in her chest and the infinite whiteness that was the hospital room.

Her husband grunted, not believing a word she said. He scooted closer to her, dragging the heavy chair with him and old bones cracking at the effort. His proximity brought warmness to her side, and better yet, she could get a more precise look at him.

She could difference his hair that resembled his name, the soft wrinkles of laughter around his eyes, the small scar below his chin, and Juvia found herself sighing dreamily as she was prone to do, followed by an unbelievable scoff from Gray. She giggled sheepishly.

Another one of those unchangeable facts.

"Juvia," he scolded her.

She exhaled softly, suddenly a stab of pain crossing her chest. The water mage winced, gripping his hand tightly between her weakened ones, and inhaled sharply until it went away. When the ache subsided, her eyes focusing once again on Gray's, she only found concern and resignation on them. Then, her mind raced pounding against her skull, her heart throbbed against the ribcage in a painful beat, different from the previous one, till she blurted her thoughts.

"I'm sorry." And she was so sorry too. For all the troubles she was causing lately, for what she knew and he knew was going to come. For… for…

For leaving him in such a circumstance again when she _promised_ not to–

"It's nothing," he answered with that smile she loved. The crooked one that, for all the passed years, still made her heart skip a beat, and her cheeks blush, and lifted all worries from her tattered shoulders. The one that had never changed, so alike the one when he was young. "The kids will be here soon."

Warily, the smile found its place on her lips again. The woman, with worn muscles that hindered movement, curled closer to him. But even then, after his soothing word and wonderful smile, there was worry somewhere at the back of her mind, eating away everything left behind.

Except, maybe, she hoped, it wasn't so much as resignation but reluctant acceptance that shined in his eyes. Gods knew she would be ready only if he was.

"That's good," she hummed sleepily. "Juvia really wants to see them."

Later, his fingers still interlacing with hers, his presence still warm next to her like that of sunny days, Juvia slept.

.

.

The sweet smell of recently handmade cookies welcomed him, and as the scent filled his nose, Gray guessed the kids had been there or were going to be soon enough. He sighed deeply, the kind of sigh that only a grandfather of devious grandchildren could give, and walked towards the kitchen. As he entered to a scorching room lighted by the oven, Juvia greeted him.

"Welcome home," she singsonged in the sea of flour, butter and chocolate chips, where she stood out with a bun tying up the mix of blue and grey hair and an apron shielding her from the wreck around.

A sight to behold in his mind, even though the picture had presented itself multiple times along the line. Yet, there was something fascinating on the thought of comparing the once smooth skin to the present one, or the iridescence of the current hair to the amalgam of blues of when she was younger. Still, his flesh, bones and blood never failed to hum at the image.

Watching around, Gray came across the mount of sweets in the corner of their table and a strange mixture of a scowl and a smile appeared on his factions. Nearing the desserts, he picked one of them before being swatted away by his wife. The scowl deepened.

"You're gonna spoil them rotten." He cringed while glancing at all the sugar covering a large part of the table. "Quite literally."

Juvia huffed in mock indignation, leveling a playful look, to continue with her task of baking an extra set of sweets. Gray gave another sigh of sufferance, settling away in the far corner of the kitchen.

"Juvia's their grandmother. She can indulge them as much as she wants."

He was ready to contradict her, since their daughter had specifically told them about where the limits were, when, maybe not so unexpectedly, the bell rang. Gray straightened his back with a little pop of old bones resonating in his ears and a covered the squeal of excitement from the woman next to him.

"There comes the devil," he muttered between tired teeth.

Her laughter resonated between the four walls, bright, clear and so _lively_, like it used to be and still was; and as it used to be and still was, affection swarmed him, easing his hardened features.

"Don't be so gruff," she said lightly.

A cookie found its way into his hand, which earned from him a kiss to her.

.

.

Music blasted through the whole space, bringing all the people around to the scenario, so as they could dance at its beat. Juvia sought out for the bride and groom in the center of all activity, exchanging hidden smiles full of joy. It brought melancholy within her, maybe with a tinge of jealousy alongside, as the picture in front reminded her of her own festivity years, years ago.

She sighed happily, relaxing against the frizzly chair. All around her she could hear the cheerful conversations of people praising the wedding and the sound of drunken laughter, with the rhythmic steps of young legs against the floor as the background sound. Smirking at the success of the ceremony, she leaned in her husband who sat next to her with a frown in place.

"I feel old," she commented, nuzzling against his shoulder.

Gray looked at her from the corner of his sight, tie unmade and the white shirt's first buttons opened. He grinned with the lopsided grin of his, the one she dearly loved, frown disappearing as fast and the drink in his hands left behind in the table.

"Well, you are," he said, glancing ahead again. "And you're going to get older."

Juvia held herself from pouting, eyebrows getting closer in concentration. She took in the new gray hairs that had sprouted from what once was pitch black, the folds of his skin that were becoming more numerous as time passed and the shine of a life behind belated eyes. Her mouth lifted upwards again.

"Gray is getting old, too."

He hummed in agreement, the vibrations of his chest sending chills down her spine. In the sidelines, she noticed their daughter being pushed into a more upbeat dance by her newly branded husband. Juvia giggled at her blushed face, the complains pouring from her, and the happiness vibrating from the couple.

When she looked back at Gray, he was already watching her, lips quivering as if he wanted to say something. Finally, he asked.

"Dance?" Her smile broadened.

"Juvia was wondering when Gray was going to ask her."

.

.

He kept an eye while his daughter contained her happiness in muted squeals so much like her mother did. Instinctively, his fingers twisted as if they wished to grab something, only to not let it go. Before any harms was done, however, Gray contained the cursing sensation, pushing away all the darkest thoughts in the corner of his mind.

Not every day could he see his child gearing up to go in her first mission as a mage. Not every day would he feel clawing feeling in his arms, or the bile of the unknown spit his throat, either. He should have known better than to give in; but the problem was, he didn't. So, a part of him searched all the possible outcomes, even when he shouldn't have.

It was the same part of him that wanted to reach for his daughter, stopping all the clouded madness for once, for the nightmares wouldn't come true if he did something, anything now. But, at the end, he didn't. He _couldn't. _And the only thing stopping him was the slender fingers of Juvia brushing his side.

"Gray shouldn't worry," she told him while firmly squishing his hand between hers. "She is going to be fine."

After sending a last peek to the retreating figures, their silhouettes becoming smaller by the second, he swirled around to face his wife. A final pang of worry cursed through before everything subsided. Mouth shut close and hands transforming into fists, he leaned on her, supporting himself in her.

"It wasn't that," he mumbled under his breath. "I don't like the bastard she is going with."

Juvia's mirth ringed on his ears even when she had stopped laughing altogether, and his shadows left.

.

.

She poured another glass of milk while biting away a chocolate biscuit, not so sure about what she was doing. She felt full, but she was yet to tame her hunger which, in turn, frustrated her. She was so nervous, though, shudders going back and down all over her body. The lights above flickered and the creak of a door drowned the sound of her munches. Soon after, Juvia watched as her unclothed husband entered the kitchen with dragged feet and heavy lids.

He growled at her while she frowned at him, taking another cookie from the pack. It took time before either of them spoke, and by then, she felt wacky under his intense gaze.

"You're eating way too much, Juvia," he informed with a drawl, eyes squinting sleepily.

It wasn't a heartfelt commentary, she could tell; just a casual observation that helped to loosen her wrecking nerves. Fingers drumming against wood, he watched as she ate, not a sound slipping from him. She glanced at him occasionally, cheeks burning and mouth restless.

Slowly, while she sipped the rest of her milk, Juvia placed some of the biscuit in his hands. A snort of amusement followed her.

"Bribing me now?" Gray laughed off.

She nodded, albeit awkwardly, before stretching her back straight and the protuberance that was her belly showed more. She looked down, hugging her own self and allowing the stream of uneasiness to manifest.

"Juvia is just… anxious," she murmured with a tiny voice, letting the meaning speak more.

It almost bordered with panic actually, and she knew he had already perceived it. It was a giddy sensation lightning her up, to wait for a family to form when soon they would be three. But a troublesome one as well, when the situation started to peak its head. She was so inexperienced and raw for what was awaiting them. Gray was too, for all that mattered.

What if something went wrong, what if she failed where it counted on? What if, what if. _What if_–

"C'mere," Gray pronounced, one of his hands extended and eyes burning on her.

She grasped it, simply because she always did and how could she _not, _her other hand resting on her swollen stomach. With a swift movement, her husband pulled her up, strong arms unwavering and forbidding her to fall, and his thumb caressing her skin, he drove her to their bedroom.

Later on, he showed her.

.

.

"Gray," she would whisper all the lazy mornings of winter, "Juvia doesn't want to get up. It's cold."

At which, every lazy morning of winter, he would answer:

"Then don't."

Afterwards, there was a crisp calm in their bedroom as all sounds were swallowed by the cold and the snow outside. Gray liked it. He liked the cool air around them, while they were shielded by warm sheets; he liked the times where there was nothing important to do and they could just lounge in his bed as well, knowing there was no necessity to wake up for another hour at least.

Then again, he liked a lot of things lately.

He had come to appreciate the heat of a body next to him every night, or the little quirks of living with another person. He had attained an attachment to Juvia's mannerisms and the whole lot that came with it, even the ones that riled him up to unsuspected levels. He could never be gladder for not being visited by the regrets and laments of his past as much as once upon a time happened.

And, recently, in the peaceful muteness of his mind, thoughts would travel to places he didn't know existed.

They wandered with ideas he had only brought up when Juvia did in her fashion of double meaning and insinuations, to dismiss as quickly as they had been presented, too strange and too scary to even ponder about. But they weren't as strange and as scary as they were just yesterday anymore.

A peculiar change where what was labeled as a distant dream became a possibility for the day of tomorrow. A welcomed one after a while too, as he played with it on his own, and next, a wish waiting to be fulfilled.

So.

It was in the cold morning of a winter day when it happened.

"Juvia doesn't want to get up," she said. "It's cold."

"Then marry me," he asked.

.

.

She was startled by his abrupt entrance. Gray came in a whirlwind of questions and stammers, breathing swallow as if he had run a marathon and the few clothes still on in complete disarray. Juvia could see the panic behind his wide eyes and the light shaking of his hands at his sides. A strange sight, that one.

She tilted her head, casting aside the medicine given by the doctor while Gray regained some remaining composure. Juvia watched as he looked behind him, then back at her, taking into her form resting on Polyusca's bed, and proceeded with groaning.

"Fucking Gajeel, "he muttered, "this ain't funny."

She blinked, pieces of the puzzle falling slowly in place. Her eyes lingered in his bare chest for a moment before staring directly at him. The sides of her mouth twisted whereas a frown of confusion took over. Offering a seat next to her, she asked.

"What happened?" Hesitantly, he conceded to her.

"He, Gajeel, told me you were..." he gulped, face flushing with crimson as if he was embarrassed or furious. Perhaps both. "You were, ah, worse off?"

Seconds weighted on her before she arrived to the final conclusion, the image of his uncomfortable self burning in her mind, bringing with it a stream of care and wariness. There was a small pang of sadness drowning her before holding his hand.

"Why would Gray-sama believe that?" she said with the same indignation she was feeling. "Juvia isn't going anywhere. Why would she?

Then, with persuasion tainting her words and stubbornness clouding her mind, she promised. And promised again and again and again that, no, no, _no_, she was not leaving his side any time soon. If ever. The idea was an impossible absurdity, stupid Gray-sama.

She raged on persistently, listing away all the reason on why she could never ever do that with no end at sight, when, out of the blue, a laugh cut through her speech. It was swift, lighthearted and honest, the kind of laugh she rarely heard from Gray. But there was it, so openly filling the room between gasps of air.

It meant so much to her too. The trust and the confidence he was depositing on her, the one she yearned for so long, and the care which he was showing lately, always shadowed by a protective strike she didn't knew about, and another thousand tiny important things, too, blended in.

It meant_– _it meant–

Juvia understood.

.

.

They stumbled through the remains of what once was a fearsome palace, brought down by the fire and the light. In the distance, cries of war and shouts of rage echoed, accompanied by the clash of metallic fists and to continue with the thick buzz of magic in the air.

Gray held her tighter, sharing their decayed bodies to form a whole unit while eyes set on an invisible road ahead them. Meanwhile, a scream resonated with force, reminder of all the destruction surrounding them at the hands of Zeref. Juvia's ragged gasps mimicked his own, step after step approaching the final battle.

He cringed with the taste of iron in his mouth, the droplets of blood in his being and the sting of wounds reluctant to close. Even so, he thought with the face of people left behind, all the suffering, the grief and facing the unachievable was, at last, about to end.

He only needed to hope this time. Even though he had never just hoped –he had seen too many lives passing to not stay to just do so.

Although, then and there, it could be a start for him.

Because there _had to _be a future ahead them where they could laugh and enjoy as they once used to, even amongst the constant red and pain. Because he could taste the beer he would drink when this shit ended, picture the wrestling against the idiots, the merriment of a missions with his team. Because he even could see another happy day with Juvia next to him as she was right there.

And for that, he needed to believe. So he did.

"When this ends," he panted between heavy breaths and blood dripping from a wound in his chin, "we're going to Frank's. To celebrate. And then something else, I guess. Dunno. Whatever you wanna do."

"Alone?"

It was almost laughable the easiness with which Juvia asked the simple question. So dreamy, so cheerful, so damn hopeful even in the midst of a deathly battle. And it felt like wintry days playing in the snow with Ur and Lyon, and fresh spring days in the guild laughing with the others, and the hugs he had received from his father and mother, and–

"Alone," he exhaled, heart pounding wildly and mind spinning chaotically. "Like a date, yes."

.

.

Gray visited her every day in the confinement of the infirmary. Those were sad days, where Fairy Tail licked all its losses at the end of the battle against Tartaros and, at the same time, was presented with another hurtful reality awaiting for them in the near future. However, they managed somehow; they always did as carrying the true core of their guild.

It didn't make it easier, though; to move on, to find another reason to cling on, was always painful after all.

So Gray visited her almost religiously as she healed from the poison and the waters cleaned, always carrying a story from their friends, sometime with the help of food between tales. He spoke about how Natsu was doing lately, or that Lucy was searching for a lost golden key, or that Wendy seemed way more mature than before.

Juvia listened attentively, as she always did, and she worried too.

She knew. Maybe she knew more than she should, and that was why she wanted to tell him. She wished for being able to tell him that she knew about the impossible fight, or the pain resurfacing with it. Or that she, in fact, understood the meaning of the mark in his arm. She wanted to tell him she knew that it wasn't a sign of his powers, but nothing more than another scar for the loss of a dear one.

She didn't. Not yet. Instead, Juvia watched and Juvia waited.

Until, one day all of sudden, he came to her with such expression, with such eyes, so broken and so sorrowful, that it broke her heart a little bit. Just then, she asked and she told him. Gray came crumbling down, like a castle of cards that wanted to be destroyed for long ago.

"I understand. I really do, Juvia," he would say with hands hiding his face. "But, _still. _It still hurts. And I don't know…"

In response, she would say that it was okay for him to be like that, since there was not shame but love on crying, all the way holding onto him with strength. He only let her be.

That time, she was going to be the one who would cast aside the clouds and the rain.

.

.

He held his sides tightly, nursing back his wounds and hoping against all hope for the pain to go away, breathing swallow after all the fighting and yelling and trying to do the impossible to save a friend.

And actually doing the impossible to save the enemy.

His thought scattered, few of them wondering for his companions on the quest, pondering where, who, how were they doing against this crazed people. He wondered about Natsu and Lucy and the others, confidence and determination settling again, so he stood up once more to go searching for them.

Although, before that, he needed to check that everything there was done for, that she wouldn't come after him seeking revenge. But as his eyes landed upon her immobile form in the floor, he froze.

The woman was crying.

But she was smiling as well –a tiny, impossible smile, and there was nothing weirder than that.

Gray gaped, doubts and question coming all at once. He squinted for the chance where she would launch herself at him, where she would take her water form and drown him. It never came, though; instead, she laid there watching the rain clouds drifting apart.

There was no rain dripping away all warm from their bodies, nor dark clouds bringing nothing but obscurity to life anymore. Such a strange thing, when just awhile ago it was nothing but the heavy humidity damping his lungs and torrential waters coming down as if wishing to whisk away everything and anything.

Now, however, everything was _blue_.

It was blue, blue, blue till their sight ended on the horizon, covering the world above and beyond. He could smell the clean air around, brought by soft breezes; he could see the blinding brightness of a clear day of summer, so shinny and vibrant; he could feel the life all around them, the one that was worth fighting for.

It was freedom and lightness and beautiful. So goddam beautiful after all the rain, and the darkness, and the pain.

And, looking down at that strange woman, Gray found himself smiling a crooked smile too.

The skies opened up for them.


End file.
